


The Boy Next Door

by WolfyVibes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: All jobs really, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Human Liam Dunbar, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Smut, all in one day, sciam, so cheesy it's cheddar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 11:51:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2149746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfyVibes/pseuds/WolfyVibes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six weeks. That was how long Liam had been in Beacon Hills. And already - unsurprisingly, really - he'd found himself in trouble. Well, he allowed with a slight shrug, trouble has found him. At least, Scott had found him. (Or) The one where Liam is school-boy crushing on his next door neighbour, Scott McCall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Next Door

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, here’s some more procrastination in the form of Sciam. Plot loosely resembles that of the TV show, with the exception of Liam’s birth-parent’s still being together and Scott and Liam getting some sexual Sciam air-time. Hope you enjoy!

Limbs tangled and sheets curled, wrapping themselves up in each other. A tan hand ran itself up the bare torso of the other, heavy and weightless all at once. Warmth radiated from both of their bodies, slick and wet so that their fingers slid seamlessly against each other’s skin. Liam could feel Scott’s heartbeat hammering itself against his ribcage so fast it felt like it might erupt right through his chest. A smile crept silkily to Liam’s mouth, so that the corners of his lips rose into a triumphant grin.

“You like me being dirty with you, huh?” He asked, looking straight into Scott’s eyes with an eyebrow raised. Only, it wasn’t a question at all.

The returning ‘mmm’ of affirmation Scott managed was barely audible as he fought to keep his voice steady with the younger boy rocking atop him. It was loud enough for Liam though, and it rang inside his head like the final bell of school before summer break. Scott’s eye’s closed and his forehead creased as though he were concentrating on something very hard. And, as much as Liam loved to see Scott’s eyes when he rode him, the pleasure he received from seeing the older boy in such a state, conduced by his own doing… well, that.. that was something else all together.

“Liam -“ Scott breathed, hands tightening in the sheets either side of his torso. “Liam, it’s - I’m - - _now_ -”

Liam rolled his hips once, twice, three times - and then, as easily as it had all begun, Scott undid himself within him. The sensation of warmth inside himself had Liam careen to his own finish, his eyes squeezed tight, spilling into Scott’s slack hand. Slowly, the warmth spread, encompassing his own body until his whole form felt wet. And then -

                             - -

                                               - _shit_.

 

“ _Shit_ ,” Liam swallowed, his throat dryer than expected. And not for the reason he’d first imagined upon waking to find his shorts jizzed in and no Scott below.

With a sinking feeling in his gut and a heavy heart that still beat a thousand miles an hour, Liam sat upright. For the third time this week, he’s woken to wet sheets and it was getting to a point where he could no longer blame Lucy, the family Labrador, for putting them in the wash only slept in twice. He rubbed a hand against his groggy eyes and rolled from his mattress, pulling the wet fabric from his thigh as he slid his shorts off. His phone read 05:17, and Liam couldn’t imagine being able to settle enough to sleep again, so he stumbled his way into the bathroom and turned the faucet full-lock right. There, he stood with his back to the beating stream, considering the situation he’d found himself in.

_Six weeks_. That was how long he’d been in Beacon Hills. And already - unsurprisingly, really - he’d found himself in trouble. Well, he allowed with a slight shrug, trouble had found _him_. At least, _Scott had found him_.

****

Circles. That’s what he sees. Unusual circular blotches stretching the width of his vision. There are purples and reds and blistered yellows. He’s pretty sure that he catches a few beats of deep amber mingled in there too, as they dance across his lids. Some things will never change, and he’s silently thankful that this is one of them. How odd, he adds, that such beauty could be so unattainable with eyes open.

Scott lay upon the grass in front of his house, a few of his school books littering the space around him and his eyes closed. The sun that shone down between the leaves above his head warmed his already heated skin and coloured the vision behind his lids.

It’s only when Scott hears the thud of a door that his eyes open. Turning in the direction it came, he watches Liam leaving his house, tugging a sports bag over one shoulder as he crosses the lawn.

Scott’s on his feet before he can even consider what plight he’s about to find himself in, and jogging across to catch up with his new-be neighbour.

“Hey,” he says when he reaches the younger boy. “You going to the game early?”

Scott can only assume that Liam’s going to try and fit in a bit of practice before their Lacrosse game that afternoon.

“Yeah.” It’s short, and abrupt, but then again, so is Scott’s sudden presence and that’s put his mind in disarray. The smile on Scott’s face isn’t any help to change that, as he begins to walk beside Liam. Liam wonders whether Scott’s going to stop soon and turn back to his house, or if he’s going to follow with or without an invitation.

There’s a small pause, but seems to take a year in Liam’s mind to fill, so he blurts; “do you want to come?”

The smile on Scott’s face only grows at this. “If that’s okay. I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to spy on my competition or anything.”

The colour of his cheeks deepen, Liam clearly surprised (and flattered) by the comment. Not bothering to deny it, Liam instead asked; “you really think I’m competition?”

“Are you kidding? Stile’s and I won’t even make first line if they keep bringing in kids like you.”

And the craziest thing is, Liam thinks he’s actually being genuine with him. Liam’s gaze lowered to his feet, trying to control his emotions before his ears could get any _hotter_. Scott just laughed to himself, his own eyes dropping to the path in front, and Liam wished he knew what Scott was thinking right now.

***

“ _Dude_ ,” Scott exclaims in a long breath. “How did you _do_ that?”

Liam’s beaming from ear to ear, his lacrosse stick outstretched with the ball that Scott just ditched (in what he thought was an impossible catch), inside. “That was amazing,” Scott continued, wearing a look of utter bewilderment.

Liam doesn’t think that he should feel this good, but he does. Nor does he think he should be so turned on by Scott’s appraisals. But he is.

Cars are starting to roll into the school grounds now, members of each team joining them on the field. Coach gives his usual ‘pep talk’ of insulting each of them, before threatening them with expulsion from the team if anyone misses a shot.

And then they take the field.

“Your parents coming?” Scott asks while the other team are still deciding field positions.

“My mum and my dad, yeah. They’re up there watching, but only for half the game.” Liam points a finger into the crowd on the bleachers. If he were anyone else, Scott would probably have had to pretend like he knew who the finger was directed at. But Scott’s been watching the house next door for quite some time, and he sees the brown-haired, soft eyed woman sitting next to her bald hubby, almost immediately.

Scott’s daily routine of casing his neighbours house had started as moral duty, quite fairly. You know, checking that the people next door were safe from the creatures Scott was not - and also, ensuring that none of _them_ were in fact that creature. But he’d noticed other things too, as he peered through his bedroom blinds. Like the fact that the boy who lived there never seemed to get home each day, until after dark. Or that, when he did step through his front door, it took only seconds before the light switch to his room would be on and he’d appear, his mouth running a thousand miles an hour, forehead creased in anger, as if he were yelling at someone else who lived there. And then his door would slam, his light would go off, and Scott wouldn’t see him again until early morning when the boy left again, the same sports bag on his shoulder that he was carrying today.

“Scott, go wide!” someone yells, pulling Scott from his thoughts. It takes him a second to register the play, but a second in his time is like light to these people, and he’s already in position to catch the ball before it’s even left his teammate’s stick.

Scott’s good at this sort of chaos; he likes the way he can control it into an almost calm state with his ability to process movement much faster than the rest of the field. But what he likes most is that it’s the chaos most people would be accustomed to, unlike _his_ usual, everyday chaos. The game goes well, for the most part. Scott’s passed to a lot, and he makes three of the five goals by half-time, the other two shot by Liam. Scott thinks that they make a great pair, and wouldn’t be surprised if they were assigned to co-captain together. Being quite honest, Scott wouldn’t mind that at all. He liked Liam. He liked Liam quite a bit actually.

When they’re back on, Scott’s so focused in the game that he almost misses Liam’s parents from the corner of his eye, as they shuffle their way out of the stands. It’s Liam’s face that brings Scott’s focus to them. And amongst Liam’s heavy breathing and hammering heart from running the field, Scott can sense that there’s more to this story than Liam lets known. Not that he’s given much time to dwell on that at the minute, as another ball is sent Scott’s way.

He’s running, gliding - weaving in and out of players seamlessly as he goes for goal. It’s open, and he can make the shot, he thinks. But he’s covered the field on his own terms, and looks for an open teammate to pass off to. Liam’s there, as if on calling, having kept up with Scott’s wolf remarkably well, and found his own space. Scott passes to him, his shot heading directly to the place intended. Liam snatches it up, twisting to face their goal, levelling up his body to make the shot and then -

Scott’s reaction synchronises with that of the crowd as two boys collided in front of their eyes; one loud, hollow, gasp. It’s almost as loud in Scott’s ear as the preceding _crack_ of Liam’s bone. Not even Coach has time to scream out “Dunbar you _fucking idiot-_ ” before he’s mouth slackens with the realisation that his ‘New Team Captain’ could be out of the game.

Scott’s the second one by his side, and the first to start attending to him. It was his leg, Scott could tell. And by the sound of it, it looked like Liam was looking at the end of a short-lived season, and he didn’t want to be the one to share the news.

Liam’s breath was jagged, caught in his lungs while he fought to keep the tears in. “Ow, Scott. _Shit_ , don’t touch that part.”

“We need to get your leg supported,” Scott said, then turning to the crowd, yelling out, “we need a stretcher!”

One comes out, breaking through the crowd of players that had now circled around the commotion. Together, Scott helped the medical guy from the opposing team (because let’s be honest and admit the Beacon Hills medical guy isn’t going to be the first on the field) roll Liam onto it, Scott trying to ignore the gruff breaths of pain Liam released as they did. He was then carried from the pitch, the medical man asking Liam where his parents were, to take him to the hospital.

“They’re not here anymore,” he winces; “they left about half-an-hour ago.”

It didn’t take Scott much to offer himself up to the boy; “I’ll drive him.”

It takes Coach some convincing before he allows two of his best players to leave the field, but somehow Scott manages. They take Stiles’ car, after Stiles offers to call his dad to pick him up, or get a lift from Danny. And then they’re on the road, Scott in the driver’s seat, Liam looking utterly embarrassed beside him in passenger.

“Sorry you have to miss the rest of the game,” he said meekly.

Scott smiled softly at him. “Sorry you have to miss the rest of the season.”

“This _sucks_. Do you really think I won’t be able to play until next season?”

“Probably not. Though, if it were up to Coach, you’d be playing tomorrow.”

Liam seemed to consider the possible offer and then sighed. “My dad’s going to _kill_ me when he finds out. How am I meant to get noticed by college scouts when I’m not even on the field?”

Scott rejects his internal monologue from slipping from his lips, stopping himself from telling Liam that there’s more than just his lacrosse skills that people will notice about him (big ups to his face, for one). Instead, he just looks at Liam sympathetically and says “sorry”.

***

They’ve been in the hospital for almost two hours now, and it’s pretty clear that Liam won’t be playing lacrosse again for some time. He’s sporting a boot over his cast which covers his foot, all the way to his knee, and he’s wearing an expression to match. The poor kid looks broken. Scott wished he could say something - _anything_ \- that would make even the smallest increment of a difference.

“Do you have a number of a parent or guardian that we could call so that we can let them know what’s going on?” Melissa McCall asks. She’s just finished strapping Liam’s boot, and stands in the doorway.

Liam answers with such speed, it takes Scott off guard. “Don’t call my parents. I’ll let them know what happened. I can tell them myself tomorrow. They’ll be asleep by now and I don’t want to wake them up.”

It was seven o’clock, and Scott was finding it hard to believe that anyone could be asleep at this hour. But then he remembered the hours his mum worked, and decided to give Liam the benefit of the doubt.

“Scott can drive you home then,” Melissa said. “And you can sort out the payment details tomorrow when your parents are awake.” Liam smiled thankfully at her. Then her eyes narrowed, pointing at him playfully; “but remember, I know where you live.”

It’s not until Scott’s driving back to their street, that he finally says what he’s been itching to. “You know, you’re always welcome at our house if it’s ever too .. full on at yours.”

Liam’s face changes, as if maybe he’s given too much away tonight. But his expression changes moments later, giving Scott a small smile and nod of the head before turning back to lamp-lit road ahead of them.

They drove in silence from then on which makes Scott worried that he shouldn’t have said what he had. Maybe, he allowed himself to think though, that the boy was just bummed about his leg and he didn’t in fact hate Scott. He pulled into his driveway and they both got out, him heading to his front porch, Liam to the one next door.

“I guess I’ll see you at school,” Scott said, almost awkwardly. He didn’t exactly know where he stood anymore.

“Yeah, see you then.” Liam started walking across his lawn, but stopped suddenly, turning back. “Hey, Scott.” Scott turned to face him. “Thanks for today.”

Scott’s smile was bright under the light of the moon. “Anytime.”

Liam considers his words as he lets himself inside his house, and wonders whether Scott thought he meant ‘thanks for driving me to the hospital’ rather than what he really meant. He wished he could have said what he really felt, because what he truly wanted to tell Scott was, ‘thanks for driving me to the hospital _and_ for being there when others weren’t’.

****

Scott’s in his room, doing his daily ‘duty’ of observing the happenings in Liam’s house. He’s searching for more tonight than usual, though. Waiting for the moment when Liam’s parents see what happened. As per usual, Liam’s light goes on only moments after entering the house, and he shuffles inside, slowly - quietly - shutting the door behind him. He’s then stripping off, pulling his shirt over his head and shorts from his booted leg. He’s fit, Scott side-notes to himself - quite a bit shorter than himself, and _fit_. Just as Scott’s watching Liam move in and out of view, as he wanders into the bathroom and returns with a toothbrush, the bedroom door to Liam’s room opens. Scott can’t actually see the person standing in the doorway, but Liam’s body language and obvious yelling reads the situation quite clearly to Scott. Liam keeps pointing to his boot, then to himself before throwing his arms up in frustration. It’s also quite clear when the person has left because Liam throws his lacrosse gear across his room, pulling his arms across his eyes, and dropping down onto his bed.

And then the weirdest thing occurs.

Letting his arms fall from his now puffy eyes, Liam sat up and looked straight in Scott’s direction, as if he knew he was there watching him. Scott dropped as fast as he could from his window, praying Liam hadn't caught him snooping (- could you imagine?!) and sat with his back against his wall, underneath the sill. When five minutes had passed, and no police sirens had been heard heading in Scott’s direction, Scott decided it’d be safe to peek again, lifting himself so he could see through the ajar blinds. Liam’s light was off now, and Scott’s at the conclusion that he’s gone to bed and that he probably didn’t see him and that it was just coincidence that Liam looked into his window. With this thought, Scott allows his heartbeat to settle a little.

Until he hears a knock at his door.

****

Scott’s down his stairs in four bounds, skidding to the front door. Here, he counts to five, fighting with himself whether or not he should open it. Was it the police? Was it _Liam_? Was he going to give Scott a piece of his mind about spying on him? Shit, Liam was at his door.

Scott opened it timidly, wearing an expression as though Liam’s hand was already fisted and ready to swing. But when he saw Liam’s face, everything changed. The boy had blotchy cheeks and he looked up at Scott so helplessly.

“Can I take you up on your offer?”

Scott’s only response was to step back, opening the door so that there was room for Liam to enter, the same bag he always carried, swung over his shoulder.

Scott lead him up to his room, handing him a towel and letting him know that the bathroom was just down the hall if he wanted to take a shower or something.

Liam thought it was nice of Scott not to ask questions, though Scott feared this meant Liam knew that _he_ knew what had just taken place. Nevertheless, Liam took the towel, and shortly after, the sound of running water filled the house. Scott found himself sitting on his bed, looking down at Liam’s bag. He wondered what on earth was in it that had the boy taking it everywhere he went. For the second time that night, Scott fought with himself about whether or not he should open something. And again, he found himself at the raw end of temptation.

Dropping to his knees so that he was perched over the top, Scott began to unzip it. His heart began to beat faster, him calculating the average length of time someone takes in the shower and then subtracting that answer by three, _just to be safe_. What he found was somewhat of a disappointment really - an anticlimax, at least. Inside was Liam’s dirty lacrosse gear, his stick, fifty dollars in cash and a mobile phone. If this was all that was ever in the bag, Scott wondered why he kept it on his person at all times. It was as if he were scared something would happen to it if he let it out of his sight.

Then a sinking feeling found his stomach at the realisation that lacrosse really was Liam’s life, and now that had been taken from him. At least, momentarily.

The sound of water shut off, and Scott jumped from his position on the floor, tugging the zips of the bag closed, and tossing it to the spot he’d found it. Liam traipsed in moments later, a towel around his waist, hair dripping wet. “Do you know how hard it is to take a shower and not get your leg wet?” he asks Scott, mostly out of annoyance, but his eyes are soft again.

Scott remembers back to the days when he healed at the same pace a Liam was now. “I broke my wrist in year seven,” he offered.

They stand there, looking at each other. Then Scott remembers that the smiling boy who he’s been admiring in the towel, probably wants to get changed. “Oh, sorry. I’ll let you get dressed.”

He’s walking to his door when Liam laughs, “you don’t have to leave, you know. You’ve seen me naked before.”

Scott’s shitting himself by now, thinking that Liam _knows_ about his spying activities. But then he realises he _has_ seen Liam’s ass a few thousand times at school. He supposes it’s not exactly ancient secret that Liam’s not ashamed of his body, not caring which angle he stood at when changing in the locker rooms. Then again, Scott couldn’t recall (or imagine) anyone who’d complained as of yet.

Liam’s hands are scrambling in his duffle-bag before the huff finally leaves his mouth and he looks up apologetically at Scott. “Do you have any shorts I could borrow? Sorry, I forgot mine.”

“Yeah, sure.” Scott takes this as an excuse (more so for his own personal reasons) to turn away from Liam, busying himself in his drawer rather than on the teenager in front of him. He throws Liam the pair of shorts (and a shirt too, because he knows, from his snooping efforts, that Liam forgot one of those too), doing his best to avert his eyes from where they’d habitually go.

“Thanks.”

Scott takes his own shower, the image of Liam in his room and wearing his clothes as vivid as if it were still playing out in front of him. Part of him wants to know what exactly went on in his neighbours house. What it was that they were yelling about. But, like he never granted himself the right to listen in before, he feels like that’s a topic Liam can begin. The other - and perhaps more dominant - part of him, just wants to be able to get out of the shower, walk into his room, into the embrace of the other boy, and be able to hold him there. Just for a little while so that Liam knows where he stands in relation to Scott.

****

Liam can smell Scott on himself. It’s mostly the soap in the shower that spikes recognition, but the shirt smelt a little of cologne as if Scott had worn it once before, not dirty enough for a wash. He smelt _soft_. And, even though the situation he was in, what with his leg and home life, sucked, he couldn’t help but consider where it had taken him. He’d received a direct pass to Scott McCall’s bedroom. Do not pass go, do not collect two-hundred dollars - because who needs that shit when you have a cute boy’s shorts on and him in the shower just down the hall? _No one_ , is the correct answer. At least in Liam’s books.

Without much thought to it, Liam pressed his nose into the sleeve of his shirt, breathing in the scents. It made his head thrum and his heart race. The fabric of Scott’s pants was literally on his junk. _God_ , Liam prays that he wont have another one of his dreams again tonight.

Scott’s door swings open and Liam drops his face from the shirt sleeve, almost tripping over himself as he stands - a reflex reaction in his moment of panic. Scott’s face twists into an unreadable expression, the smile on his lips mixing with the slant of his brows. He was looking at Liam, and Liam didn’t know why he’d stood up when Scott entered, and now wished there were a way he could subtly lower himself back onto the bed without raising question.

“Do they fit okay?” Scott finally broke the silence.

Liam’s eyes drop to the fabric on his chest and crotch. They were a little big, but then, Scott was a little bigger than him. He wonders just how big Scott actually is. Mind trailing to considering the extra space inside his shorts, _calculating_ , Liam’s face flushes hot again. “They fit fine, thanks.”

Scott notices the sudden spike in Liam’s heart rate, sees his skin reddening. The younger boy is still standing at the foot of his bed, looking a little consumed in Scott’s shirt. And Scott’s _glad_. He likes the idea that he’s not the only one of the two to get embarrassed in the presence of the other. Finds comfort in the possibility that he can make Liam feel the way he does, watching him standing there in his things. Surrounded by Scott. There’s a desire inside Scott to pull out the family photo albums and introduce Liam to his own experiences; to invite him into ones still to come.

Something of the sort happens when they talk about things - anything and everything, really. Scott tells Liam about how he and Stiles met, explaining the reasons why he’ll never be as good a friend as Stiles has been to him, but hopes that one day that could change. And Liam shares with Scott that his dad used to play state Lacrosse, and that was sort of where his motivation for it began. He continues (for which Scott’s glad that he’s finally opening up), saying that he also thinks that’s why he and his dad don’t get along much anymore. Because that’s become the only thing they have in common now, and on some days, that’s not exactly enough. Scott again reminds Liam of what he said in the car earlier that night, and assures him that the invitation has no RSVP date assigned to it.

 

 

It’s eleven forty and they’ve been talking for what seems like a lifetime. A good lifetime, though, Liam thinks to himself. Like the sort where nothing bad ever seems to happen, and the person dies content with what they’ve accomplished. He and Scott are on Scott’s bed and Liam can’t remember the last time he’s been able to have a solid conversation with someone about _real_ things. Car lights in the driveway and the sound of an engine switching off is what finally halts their conversation, Scott checking the time on his phone.

“It’s already eleven?”

Something inside Liam erupts with relief that Scott hadn’t felt time pass either, thankful that his presence hadn’t been a monotonous bore.

“I’ll take the couch,” Liam offers, as though someone getting home was queue for him to go.

“Oh,” Scott remembers suddenly. “My dad’s probably going to be down there later. The couch might already have dibs on it.”

“I don’t mind staying in here with you,” Liam says, his reply sounding a little more eager than he had hoped. “I mean.. if that’s okay with you.”

“That’s fine, that’s okay with me.” Scott nodded his head, sure.

There was a knock at the bedroom door, and then Melissa McCall appeared from behind it. She was clearly surprised to see two boys in there rather than one, apologising to them that she interrupted as she stepped back out. As she closed the door, she called over her shoulder that “I don’t care how old you are, Scott. It’s a school night, go to bed.” Her voice grew fainter with every step away from his room she took, until they heard her bedroom door click shut.

“Mum’s the word,” Scott smiled, switching off the lights and rolling under the sheets.

Liam followed suit, unstrapping his boot and awkwardly sliding under them too. He never could sleep on his back, and his cast prevented him sleeping on that side, so he had to lay with his face to the centre of the bed. Scott was on his back, but turned his head toward Liam, considering something.

The beating of Liam’s heart was like a freight train inside his ears and even in the dark, Scott could see Liam’s pupils dilated. They focussed on Scott’s.

“What are you thinking about?” Liam asked, unsure as to why the older boy was looking at him the way he was.

“I _was_ wondering why your heart was beating so fast,” Scott whispers. “But now I’m wondering why mine is.”

There’s a soft silence between them, while his words sink into both of them. Liam’s face feels like it’s been turning on a spit for the last hour, heated crimson. And then Liam says “I like you, Scott.”

And Scott just smiles, because he can finally show the boy he’s been trying to protect, that someone else is willing to give him love.

Scott’s the one to move first, helping Liam shift his cast-strapped leg closer to him. He wraps a hand across the younger boy so he can lift himself on top, holding his weight in his arms. Ducking his head down as if to go directly for a kiss, Liam’s eyes instinctively closing in response, but Scott pauses inches away. When Liam’s eyes open again, Scott’s so close to him that his lashes flutter against skin. “I like you too.” Scott whispers it so quietly that it’s only his moving lips agains Liam’s ear that assure him of them actually being spoken.

And then Liam makes his move. Lifting himself up from underneath so that Scott falls back onto his knees with his legs parted, he inserts himself into the space between them. With an angled neck, he presses his lips to Scott’s. They move slowly to begin with, Scott doing his best to keep up with the youngster’s tongue which fights for dominancy in his mouth. To Liam, this is something worthy of one of his wet dreams. The way Scott holds himself against him so his hand cups Liam’s ass has Liam pretty much leaking in anticipation.

“You smell _so_ good,” Scott says, when he breaks for air. To Liam’s unawares, who assumes he’s talking about the bottle of aftershave he received last Christmas, Scott can already smell the boy’s precum and breaths it in freely.

Liam takes the separation of lips as an opportunity to make his way down Scott’s torso, sucking little red marks into tan skin. If he hadn’t been so concentrated of his finish line, Liam may have noticed their sudden disappearance on application. And Scott can’t help but think aloud, “how did you get so good at this?”

Liam smirks into his skin. “Lindsey Halsh, last summer.”

A small noise escapes Scott. With a crooked smile, he looks at Liam. “An experienced man, hmm?”

Liam laughs against Scott’s skin, like a little vibration which has Scott shudder underneath. “Not really. It was seven minutes in heaven.”

Scott’s still watching him as though waiting for further explanation.

So Liam continues, sucking at Scott’s thighs between each couple of words. “She left-” he pauses to press his lips against skin -“before we even-” Liam’s tongue begins to lightly lap against Scott’s thigh -“got to the third minute.”

Scott’s laughing now, amazed he still knows how to with Liam working the way he already is down there. Liam pulls down Scott’s shorts then, a hand curling around his length and tugging lightly so that Scott’s eyes droop and mouth _pops_ open. “Don’t tease me, it was traumatic.”

Scott doesn’t even think he can speak English anymore, all trace of a smirk gone. In fact, it’s Liam who’s wearing it now. He pumps Scott agonisingly slowly, watching Scott’s body arch into his fist as he does. And unlike when he was with Lindsey Halsh, Liam’s pretty sure he knows what feels good when it comes to getting Scott turned on.

Lowering himself to the base of Scott’s erect penis, Liam allows himself to take the head in his mouth, swirling his tongue over the tip. The reaction it evokes is one in which Scott finds himself involuntary. His hips buck and a small moan comes from his now widely parted lips. “Take me, Liam. Please take me-”

He trails off, the ‘e’ twisting into more of an ‘o’ when Liam tries to fit as much of Scott into his mouth as he possibly can. His head bobs a few times, arching one way and turning another. Scott doesn’t know how this all works out while his leg is strapped, but he’ll have to give him major admiration points later for it.

With pink lips pumping themselves on him, and cheeks beginning to hollow on the way up, Scott doesn’t think he can hold himself in any longer. A hand tightens against the bedspread, the other curling in Liam’s hair. And he’s just about to burst when everything disappears.

Scott almost whines because of it, looking up through black eyes to the boy that’s now shifting his leg into a more accessible position. “This was a little different when I dreamed it,” Liam tells him, a glance at his cast and a twinkle in his eye, “but I’m sure I’ll be able to manage.”

Scott’s suddenly looking up at him with wide eyes, the younger boy directing him with “lube? you got any?”

Once Scott has stretched an arm to his bedside drawer and Liam has taken it from him, Scott asks; “you’ve _dreamed of this happening_?”

Liam answers as he squeezes some liquid into his palm and begins rubbing up Scott and then himself. “ _Every week_.”

Scott’s close to coming right then and there, but Liam’s tight hole pressing against him encourages him to hold out a little longer, only a small amount of precum dribbling from himself.

Liam lowers himself slowly, scrunching his eyes a couple of times on the way down to which Scott notices.

“Stop Liam. We don’t have to.”

But Liam bats off Scott’s offers, because Scott doesn’t realise that this sort of pain doesn't hurt him. Unlike other types of pain he’s experienced, this one is a reminder of what he has. When he’s finally pressed himself down, perched on top of Scott, they stay in that position for a minute to let him adjust properly before they begin to move.

Large hands reach up and clasp themselves around Liam’s waist. There, they stay, holding Liam’s weight suspended. It’s Scott who wants to be the one to show Liam how his first time with him can be. From this position, Scott pulses his hips upward. It takes all he can muster, even with his added strength, to keep Liam still in his grasp and preventing him from moving to take Scott inside him more wholly.

Liam’s hands are wrapped around Scott’s; the only piece of solid support as Scott’s bum rises and falls, other than his eye’s which hold on to Liam’s. Liam’s trying to keep the contact between them, but he’s finding it hard when his cheeks are being spread apart by Scott’s dick that now rides him, all the way to his prostate. His stomach tightens and releases with every movement, and he can feel himself falling off the edge. “Scott- Scott. Scott I’m gonna-“

A wash of white spray cover’s Liam’s chest whilst his hands tighten sharply against Scott’s on his waist.

Scott lifts Liam from himself and lays him on the bed beside him so that he can finish himself off. But Liam scrambles back to him, so that his hands are wrapped around Scott once again. It only takes a couple of tugs and a few loose twists before Scott’s head presses back against the pillows and his body rocks. Right into Liam’s palm.

The smells that they’ve created together are _spectacular_ to Scott. Like their own scent that he’ll now live in for the rest of his life. And if tonight were any indication to the quality of it, that wouldn’t be so bad at all.

Liam fell back against the pillows too. They lay there for a few minutes, their chests rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern. Scott’s considering himself earlier that day when he lay under his tree. The colours that splayed themselves across his eyelids flashed across his mind again. The blues and purples. The blazing oranges and tapered washes of marzipan yellow. Sure, some things would never change - and he was glad of that. But the parts of his life that _had_ changed, like the boy laying next to him with his chest still rising and falling from his high, were also pretty darn lovely right now. And, Liam could now agree with him when saying he didn’t need his eyes closed to experience such a thing as beautiful as this.

 

 

All they can hear is the sound of their ragged breaths beginning to calm. Before another noise fills the silence and Melissa McCall’s voice breaks from her own bedroom;

“For the love of God, _go to sleep._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Five months later, you’ve finally finished it. It could totally be subdivided into the length of the chapters in my uni readings because that’s quite literally how long it is. I got a little carried away. I hope it was enjoyable anyway! Much love.


End file.
